


The New Age

by papillon_effetto



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Angst, Battle of Hogwarts, British, Consensual, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Death Eaters, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Developing Relationship, Dom/sub, Drama & Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Good Death Eaters, Good Severus Snape, Herbology, Hogwarts, Humor, Meant To Be, Mental Health Issues, Minor Original Character(s), Original Character(s), Porn With Plot, Post-Hogwarts, Potions, Second Chance, Secret Relationship, Severus Snape - Freeform, Severus Snape/Original Character - Freeform, Severus Snape/Original Female Character - Freeform, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Soulmates, Teacher-Student Relationship, Tranfiguration, Witches, Wizards, daddy - Freeform, snape - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:46:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25759807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/papillon_effetto/pseuds/papillon_effetto
Summary: It's been almost five years since the battle of Hogwarts.Parents were afraid to send their children back to school in fear of another dark wizard wanting to come to power. Severus Snape, who managed to survive the brutal battle remained in the position of Potions Master; parents uneasy and untrusting with the fact that Snape was a Death Eater for the Dark Lord. Construction on the beloved and sacred school grounds of Hogwarts took effect immediately but was a long and tedious process. Enrollment dropped dramatically and Hogwarts was in desperate need of fresh faces. With a hesitant decision, the Head Mistress, Minerva McGonagall began accepting witches and wizards from across the seas.It was a new era of teaching as professors had to come to terms with their neighbors from America. Rapidly, from first-years to seventh-years, spots were beginning to fill up. However, there was an unusual set of students that were attending Hogwarts, young adults that were in their early twenties just learning about the wizarding world and their magical powers for the first time.
Relationships: Severus Snape/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	1. Students from Across the Pond

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction takes place five years after the battle of Hogwarts. Due to writing purposes, canonical characters will not behave or perform as their true selves. Facts from the Harry Potter series will be rewritten as well for story purposes. For example, I will be adding my own personal characters and making the age of Severus Snape a bit younger, standing at the age of 33 instead of 38 (the age of when he died). The time frame of this story has also changed as well, taking place in modern times.
> 
> WARNING: Graphic content, sexual scenes, student/teacher relationship, daddy issues, mental health issues, etc
> 
> I do not own or am affiliated with the Harry Potter series.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fanfiction takes place five years after the battle of Hogwarts. Due to writing purposes, canonical characters will not behave or perform as their true selves. Facts from the Harry Potter series will be rewritten as well for story purposes. For example, I will be adding my own personal characters and making the age of Severus Snape a bit younger, standing at the age of 33 instead of 38 (when he died). This fanfiction will also be taking place in the modern-day and age.
> 
> WARNING: Graphic content, sexual scenes, student/teacher relationship, daddy issues, mental health issues, etc
> 
> I do not own or am affiliated with the Harry Potter series.

The roar of the steam train rumbled like an angry ocean in Bristol Clemen’s ears. She tucked herself away in a lonely compartment in the back of the Hogwarts Express, afraid and alone. She picked up on a pattern as students passed by her compartment; young students from about eleven to seventeen years old. Bristol swallowed hard, embarrassed of her circumstance.

Twenty years old and no lick of magical knowledge under her belt. For her whole life, she felt that her moments of rage or spiraling sadness were the reasons why she felt so off. But there was no logical excuse that would explain a levitating bedside lamp or glass shattering out of the blue into millions of pieces. Her magical abilities were repressed by her muggle parents, afraid that their daughter was going to grow distant and seek refuge in the place where she truly belonged. For twenty years, Bristol spent her life believing there was something seriously wrong with her when in reality, she had magic at her fingertips all along.

She had a sense of understanding that the kids that were boarding the train were already aware of the wizarding world. She assumed that of all the people on the train, she was the only one born from “human” parents. She was completely clueless to the different types of statuses and classes that the wizarding world displayed. In fact, she was totally blind to the idea of the wizarding world itself. She looked over to her carry-on luggage, the Hogwarts letter folded neatly into its original envelope. 

Bristol sunk deeper into the tattered cushioned seats, biting her lip as she stared out the window. The train slowly was chugging away from the station and she could hear parents bidding their children goodbye. Bristol felt her eye sting as she recalled the night she got her letter. Her parents were fuming, annoyed at the fact that their daughter was “Sick.”

Her parents jabbed at her brain with harsh words, saying that the school was a scam. Magic doesn’t exist, it’s only a reality in silly books for children. But Bristol felt otherwise, the yellow parchment of the acceptance letter sending electricity through her veins. 

It took Bristol all the will-power and money she had to book a flight to England and leave for the remainder of the year. She was unprepared for what the school year might have in store for her. The letter didn’t come with instructions on what to bring, just to arrive at Kings Cross Station and arrive at Platform 9 ¾. When Bristol arrived at Kings Cross, she made the gut-wrenching discovery that there wasn’t any such Platform called 9 ¾. Her parents' words buzzed inside her mind that the school was a fake and that she’d be sorry for going in the first place. Feeling defeated, Bristol was about to turn around and find someone to help her until she noticed a young boy run right into the wall between Platforms 9 and 10. Bristol blinked a couple of times, another young boy following his lead. Slowly, when she was out of everyone’s eyesight, she charged right at the wall and was astonished that she didn’t crash right into it. 

For a moment, while watching plush green trees zoom past her compartment window, she wondered if this was a dream. Maybe she’s still back in New York City, on the second floor of her home, tucked into bed and sleeping until noon. But the massive hit her bank account received by buying a plane ticket and new clothes said otherwise. 

Do I regret this? Bristol thought, the light gray sky slowly turning darker as the hours passed. Light rain fell against the windows, kids running up and down the train's corridors. 

No, Bristol, you don’t. 

She took a shaky sigh, wondering what the school would look like. She couldn’t bear to come to terms with the fact that she might be the oldest student attending. Bristol shut her eyes, needing some time to herself. Her fingers slowly raveled into her palm, her nails digging at her skin. Bristol forced herself to let go of the fist she was forming, needing to shake off doubts and anxieties, trying to convince herself that the choice she made was a good one.

She paid attention to the sound of the rain, her heart rate slowing as she found herself drifting off to sleep.

\--

The loud banging of her compartment door woke Bristol up. She looked around, her senses slowly coming back as she realized where she was and what was about to happen. She pulled out her phone from her pocket, opening to the camera app to check her makeup. She frowned, wiping away smudged black eyeliner from underneath her eyes. Her concealer was wearing off, revealing a purple hue on her pale skin. Bristol cursed at herself for night carrying on her makeup bag, her nerves doubling as she realized people were going to have to face her now. She grabbed hold of her luggage and slowly opened the compartment door. There was a large group of students already in front of her, trying to shove and push their way off the train. Bristol was thankful that she stayed all the way in the back. She joined the group, staying a few feet away, trying to eavesdrop onto their conversation. She couldn’t make out much, the rumble of thunder, scurrying feet, and thick British accents making it hard for her to understand the commotion going on. 

It took almost half an hour for Bristol to finally depart the Hogwarts Express. She slowly stepped off the train and onto hard concrete, her eyes rapidly looking around for someone moderately her age to cling to. She noticed students were being called into groups. These groups had numbers to them, ranging from first-years to seventh-years. First-years being accompanied by an extremely short man with a monocle and a cane. Bristol blinked twice, never seeing someone reach her knees before. She was short herself, only coming in at 5’1, but it struck her odd that a grown man could reach such a height and not have difficulty projecting his voice. As she stared longer, she realized the man had a long stick pointing directly into the base of his throat. Her eyes went wide, coming to terms with what that stick may be. 

Is that . . . a wand? Bristol thought to herself. Her hands went clammy when she realized that she didn’t have one herself. There was no possible way to produce magic if she didn’t have a wand to cast spells with. Feeling defeated, Bristol was debating about boarding the train again and going straight back to Kings Cross to go home. However, a loud, scruffy voice caught her attention, calling out: “All American students, follow me!”

Bristol felt her feet shuffle towards the voice, joining a rather large group of people that ranged in age. Bristol took notice that little children, just like the first years, were a part of the group just as well as people her age. Bristol instantly felt better about her circumstance. She didn’t feel so alone anymore. She gave a small smile to the girl closest to her right. She looked about her age, just taller and with bright pink hair. Bristol reached the tips of her long, boring brunette hair, wishing she had the confidence to dye it. 

“All right, the lot of you must be confused as to what’s going on. But once Professor McGonagall explains everything, it'll come to a clear understanding,” the scruffy voice boomed. Bristol looked over at the one who was directing the group, a gigantic man who’s hair blended with his beard. He seemed friendly enough, bright rosy cheeks shining from behind his beard. He began to wobble towards where the first years were heading and Bristol realized that they were heading towards a dock. 

“Boats?” A young voice boomed. Bristol looked down to see a blonde kid looking scared. The leader of the group turned around, having to get on one knee to be at eye-level of the child. 

“Now don’t yee worry, alright? These boats are enchanted to go towards Hogwarts without flipping or turning over. Now normally, only the first years take the boats as the rest of the students walk to the castle, but because the lot of you are new, you get the experience as well.” The man grunted as he stood back up, his knee cracking. 

“Oh, by the way,” the man said, placing his hands on his hips. “I’m Rubeus Hagrid, keeper of keys and grounds at Hogwarts. Occasional professor as well,” he chuckled.

Bristol stood to the back as her group began to board the boats, heading off to wherever it may be taking them. She wished we could walk with the other students, finding it a bit humiliating that she had to receive the “special” treatment. When it came time for her to board the boat, she found that her partner, the girl with the vivid hair was joining her for the journey. Bristol’s boat was one of the last to leave the dock, Hagrid telling the girls that he would be right behind them if they needed anything or had any questions. 

“This thing is so slow,” the girl spoke up. Bristol immediately noticed she had a Southern accent. 

“I know, right? I kind of wished we walked instead of taking this dumb little thing,” Bristol laughed. 

“That’s what I was thinking! I’m Mable, Mable Finnigan,” the girl stuck out her hand to which Bristol gladly shook.

“Bristol Clemens. I’m from New York, what about you?”

Mable let out a loud gasp, making the boat rock. “My goodness, you’re a city gal, aren’t you? I should’ve noticed the clothes. Always dressed so nice compared to my crappy fabrics.”

Bristol looked down at her outfit, black skinny jeans that were being held up by a silver belt. Her top was a black silk tank with thin straps. Bristol didn’t notice the dramatic difference in style until Mable pointed it out.

“And forgive me for what I’m about to say, but how are your breasts being held up by that flimsy little top of yours? I grew watermelon the size of those last year!”

Bristol felt her cheeks turn a bright red, her arms trying to hide any sort of cleavage she may be showing off. 

“I didn’t mean to-”

“Don’t think twice about it honey, I wish I had those. Look at me, I’m wearing a washed-up pair of boot-cut jeans and my best shirt, which isn’t even cute at all.”

Bristol frowned, taking in the girl before her. She had long sleeves that went past her hands and tassels wrapped around her collarbone. It was a very 70’s style, all Mable needed was a pair of rollerskates and a time machine.

“You look gorgeous, Mable. Hopefully, we stay this close throughout the year, Bristol chimed, giving the girl before her a wide smile.

Mable nodded, squealing. “Oh, me too! I was so darn nervous about making friends but it seemed like you and I crossed paths for a reason! Now, when are we ever going to get to that school-”  
Mable cut herself short, her eyes going wide. Bristol looked at her friend confused until she followed where she was looking. Bristol felt her jaw drop, the sight before her breathtaking. That was no school, that was a castle. The eloquent architect was lit up from the inside, lanterns flickering, a warm welcome for students. 

Bristol and Mable remained silent for the rest of the boat ride, entranced by the beauty that is Hogwarts. It didn’t take long for the boat to finally reach the dock, Hagrid rounding the American students up and bringing them to the side. 

“Now just wait here while the other students go in first. Professor McGonagall will greet you lot in a couple of minutes. You’ll see me inside at the Great Hall by the professors table.” With a warm smile, Hagrid turned on his heel and walked inside the castle. 

Mable was already talking and making friends with the people from the group, shaking hands, and even introducing Bristol. It seemed like everyone was on the same page, afraid yet excited to see where the year would take them. Bristol was the only one from New York. She learned that Mable was from Texas, answering the question that she didn’t from before. The closest person to her state was the same blonde young boy, arriving from Pennsylvania. 

The group chatter slowly died down as they awkwardly were standing outside the castle, waiting for someone to lead them in. Bristol was thankful that it wasn’t a chilly night. After a few more minutes of people kicking the rocks from underneath their feet, an older woman with an emerald green cape flew from down the steps, clearing her throat to grab everyone’s attention.

“If you all can follow me,” she said in a high-pitch, almost shaky kind of voice. She turned around, leading the group of Americans up the stairs and into a hallway. She stopped before a set of closed, wooden doors. She looked down at everyone for a second, taking in their faces before she spoke.

“I am Headmistress McGonagall although you may call me Professor McGonagall. I teach the art of Transfiguration here at Hogwarts. Now, I realize that each and every one of you may have a thousand questions to which I will answer here and now. However, before we get into inquiries, before these doors behind me lies a student body of students that were given a list of school supplies. When you enter these doors, do not be alarmed that you aren’t dressed the same way they are. The students as well as the staff have been informed of your arrival, and we’re all quite eager and excited to have students from a different country join us,” McGonagall said, clapping her hands. She did seem excited, giving a small wink to a young girl with braids that looked equally as eager.

“When you enter these doors, you will be sorted into houses. These houses will be your family. They are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. These houses resemble a quality and trait that you all possess inside of you. Throughout the year, each house will receive or take away house points. Whichever house comes in first place will receive the House Cup. It’s a fun and exciting way to celebrate at the end of the year. It also teaches discipline and to not act out of line unless you are deliberately seeking to make your own house fail although I don’t know why anyone of you would act accordingly.” McGonagall quickly scanned the crowd to spot out any faces that may cause trouble for her in the future.

“When you get sorted into these houses, the head of your house will take you out tomorrow to Diagon Alley where you will collect your school supplies, robes, and most importantly, your wands. For example, I am the Head of Gryffindor House, so whoever gets sorted into Gryffindor gets the pleasure of spending an afternoon with me tomorrow.”

“As you may know, some of you are older than the others, which will make it a bit more difficult to teach the older students basic magic. However, the heads of each house have a carefully detailed schedule and lesson plan that will get the older students up to speed. That being said, however, that the older students will have to spend an hour or two after classes each night with the head of their house, catching up.”

A few people in the group groaned, the idea of working overtime and shoving an excessive amount of knowledge down their throats already exhausting. McGonagall glared at those who verbally complained but ignored their cries of anguish. 

“At the end of the year, you will be taking a final exam in each one of your classes to make sure that you caught up to speed. Have I made myself clear?” McGonagall asked, looking around to see if a shy hand was popping up from the crowd. When no one had any questions, she turned around, about to open the doors.

“Oh! By the way, because you are going out tomorrow with the head of your house, you will most likely spend the majority of the day in Diagon Alley. Classes are to begin on Monday and you will all receive a schedule the night before as to where and what you will be learning.”

The group was silent as McGonagall scanned the crowd once more before shoving the doors open and walking deep inside the Great Hall. Bristol froze as hundreds of faces looked her way. McGonagall wasn’t kidding when she said that everyone was wearing the same thing. Students had black robes on with a white button-up. A few students had colored ties and Bristol thought it must be to signify what house they’re in. 

The group scurried their way across the Great Hall, uncomfortable with the eyes looking their way. Bristol remained in the back with Mable, desperately hoping that the two ended up in the same house together. McGonagall presented the group with a wooden stool and an old tattered hat that folded into itself, resembling a face. When the hat spoke, making Bristol jump, she realized that the hat was a face.

One by one, students from her group were being sorted by the hat. There were a lot of Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, Bristol noticed. She didn’t know which house was technically the best, but she hoped that she would be placed into the one that fit her best. 

As students were being sorted, Bristol looked up at the professor's table to see who would be potentially teaching her this year. Her eyes scanned the table, a unique display of teachers sitting before her. The majority of them were wearing long robes, ranging from gorgeous colors and fabrics. Bristol felt excited to know what power and knowledge they held, ready to learn the secrets of the wizarding world. At the far left of the table, a particular professor caught Bristol’s eye. He had raven hair, long enough to create a ring around his neck. He was fully cloaked in black, seeming unimpressed and bored. Bristol couldn’t take her eyes off him, his strong Roman features enticing her. He seemed young but old enough to be working as a professor for quite some time. Bristol wondered what house he was sorted into, secretly hoping that she would get the same. When the bored looking professor looked her way, raising an eyebrow up at her, she looked away, embarrassed that she was caught for looking too long.

Finally, it was time for Bristol to get sorted. She sat on the stool, the hat placed on top of her head. It was muttering a few incoherent words to which Bristol tried desperately to understand. After a few seconds, the hat screamed, “SLYTHERIN!”

The Slytherin table roared, a few of the older boys at the table raising out of their seats and clapping, beckoning Bristol to join them. She felt her cheeks rise as she walked her way over. Before she sat down, she took a look at the professor's table, the man with the raven hair clapping and smirking her way. 

Bristol sat at the edge, closer to the professor's table than she would have liked. She felt dirty for thinking that a potential professor was good looking. She knew that she had to shake these thoughts off, but she caught herself glancing his way ever so often, intrigued by his cold demeanor. Mable was sorted into Slytherin as well, squealing as she ran towards Bristol, encapsulating her in a giant hug.

Bristol smiled wide, excited that she finally belonged somewhere. McGonagall gave the large body of students a small speech about having an excellent school year. She made sure to mention that the American students were just like the rest of them and to welcome them with open and warm arms. With a wave of her hand, heaps of food flooded the long table in front of Bristol. Ranging from baked chicken to desserts, students began to dig into their dinner for the night.

Mable filled her plate, speaking to the students around her. Bristol occasionally chipped in, her shyness taking control as she listened in more than she spoke. She was intrigued by the atmosphere Hogwarts had to offer. Levitating candles lighting the Great Hall, making it a cozy and welcoming vibe. Bristol almost felt complete, as if she was meant to be here this whole time. However, there was one thing that was throwing her off. She kept looking over at the man with the dark hair and eyes who seemed to be looking at her right back.


	2. Head of Slytherin House

Owls fluttered throughout the Great Hall, feathers gently falling due to the ferocious flapping of their wings. Bristol yawned for the third time as Mable stared at a newspaper before her, impressed with the content it held. Her blue eyes were wide as she pointed out troll sightings near Ireland and to watch out for any potential attacks. Bristol held in a groan as another excited squeal left Mable's lips.

"It's amazing how the pictures _move_ ," Mable gasped, sipping on her pumpkin juice. She groaned as she looked down at her chalice, her face twisted into disgust. "I'm never going to get used to that taste."

Bristol smiled softly at her friend, glad that they were both sorted in the same house. She noticed that her fellow peers were nice but mostly reserved. Bristol found it quite difficult to make conversation with a fifteen-year-old and not feel awkward about it. At her age, only being twenty-one, she felt like magic was neglected to her all these years.

Mable began to mumble on about how excited she was to embark on Diagon Alley. According to a few students, it was a tight-knit street littered with shops beyond the eye can see. Mable was curious as to what magical properties each shop held and Bristol's mind wandered to the endless possibilities of what magic could create. Becoming excited, she quickly finished her breakfast and McGonagall announced to the Great Hall that all new American students should line up in the corridor and wait for the head of their house.

A slew of people arose from their benches and shuffled their way out the hall. People began to form into their own groups according to their house and Bristol noticed that Gryffindors took up the majority. She raised an eyebrow, wondering how much she differed from that house. Maybe she was a fraction away from being sorted into somewhere different. The idea of being sorted into a house alone made Bristol curious, wondering how the Sorting Hat could possibly figure it out.

She sighed, leaning against the cool cobble wall, waiting to be introduced to the head of her house. She examined the faces that were in the same house as her, Mable talking to each and every one of them. Everyone in her group was rather young and Bristol began to wonder if she was the oldest. It was far smaller than the Gryffindor group which Bristol noticed right away and wondered if that was a bad thing. She bit her lip at the idea of not being able to fit in because she had a certain set of requirements for her character that would restrict her from making friends. It seemed as if her anxieties only forced her to overthink as Mable drew in Bristol's attention.

"Bristol, meet Michael," Mable said, excited to make a new friend.

Bristol looked up at the man before her, quite shocked at how tall he was. He was lanky and lacked muscle, large round glasses sticking to his face. However, besides his stereotypical nerdy demeanor, he was quite attractive. He had a strong jaw and a defined nose, a perfectly symmetrical face that would be found in paintings. Bristol reached out her hand and greeted Micahel with a firm shake.

"I'm from California," He said, smiling down at Bristol. "And, embarrassingly, I'm twenty."

"Really? I've beaten you by a year," Bristol joked, making Michael chuckle under his breath. 

It seemed that Mable also found Michael enticing, her eyes wide and shining every time he spoke. Bristol knew immediately to back down from any potential thoughts that would end up with her crushing on him. Although inexperienced romantically, Bristol had a great deal of knowledge when it came to someone developing a crush. She could hear her friends back home chirp and sing about boys. 

"I'm twenty too! August second! A Leo," Mable bragged, tossing her auburn hair over her shoulder. 

Michael turned to Mable to further the conversation of zodiac signs to which Bristol didn't find as interesting. She would chime in and give in her two-scents but she was becoming nervous to meet the head of her house. The Hufflepuffs were already gone from the school and the Gryffindor and Ravenclaws just became acquainted with the head of their houses. Bristol crossed her arms, pouting. After a couple of minutes, the Slytherins were the only ones left to their devices and Bristol began to think the head of their house wasn't going to show up.

Just when Bristol was about to open her mouth and dish out a complaint, long black robes swept into her eyesight. A tall man, someone who just about reached Michael's height, stood before the group. His clothes buttoned up to the base of his neck and he had a permanent scowl on his face. He slowly began to examine each and every face of the group, seemingly unimpressed with what he was going to work with. When he glanced over Bristol, his eyebrow twitched a little, as if he remembered her from last night.

"My name is Professor Snape and I am the head of Slytherin house," He drew out after a minute of stone-cold silence. His voice was monotone and dull. However, it was deep and sort of husky. Bristol didn't mind listening to it. She always fancied English accents, especially if it was coming from the mouth of someone who had a deep voice. She clenched her jaw, once again cursing at herself for finding interest in her professor.

"I am going to show you Gringotts, the Wizarding bank we use, and how to exchange Muggle money for galleons. I will also bring you to Olivander's where you will be given a wand especially tailored to oneself. Not only that I have the pleasure," He scoffed, seemingly already exhausted with the day's events yet to come. "To bring you to get your robes, books, and other course requirements. It is almost as if I am holding the hands of little children. And by the looks of it you all seem quite grown-up," Professor Snape said, staring directly now at Bristol.

Bristol bit the inside of her cheek, lingering in the back of the group as Professor Snape led the group down to the dungeons where the Slytherin chambers preside. Bristol grew confused, trying to understand why they would go back to the dorms if they wanted to leave the school. Instead of making the usual sharp left, Snape continued down the hallway and pulled out a set of keys, unlocking a rotting mahogany door.

"My office," Professor Snape said, motioning for the students to step inside. Bristol's mouth dropped at the scenery before her. Glowing vials littered the walls, a huge cauldron sat in the middle of the room, and large bookcases filled to the brim with books fell before her eyes. What seems to be a chemistry set sat on top of a large wooden desk, a potion still in the work of progress being made.

"Close your mouths before it begins to catch flies," Professor Snape snapped, heading over to a large fireplace. He reached for the mantle and grabbed a tiny bowl that was filled with gray ash. He pointed his wand at the fireplace to which he successfully killed the fire, making a few students gasp.

"Impressive," Bristol said aloud. 

Professor Snape looked over at the voice, narrowing his eyes slightly. He ignored the comment as he began to explain what Floo powder was and how the idea of transportation worked from it. One by one, students chucked a handful of powder in the fire, flames turning emerald green.

Bristol was the last one to use the Floo network, becoming increasingly uneasy. She bit her lip, nervous that it might backfire on her. What if she tried to use the powder but wouldn't nudge? What if she isn't a witch at all and they sent her the letter by mistake?

"Are you or are you not going to step into the fireplace Miss . . ." Snape eyed Bristol down, raising an eyebrow.

"Clemens," She said, looking up at the man. She swallowed hard, her body moving to inside the fireplace.

Snape extended his hand out with the bowl and she grabbed the ashy powder, her heart picking up speed. She drew a deep breath and with a clear voice shouted, "Diagon Alley!"

Bristol found herself with her classmates, loud chatter buzzing in her ears as her eyes focused on the bustling street. Amazement washed over Bristol's features as she saw a multitude of stores, people, and magic. She wasn't sure where to look first, overwhelmed by how enchanting the street she was standing on. In her wildest dreams only she could conjure up such beauty and amazement. Only if Snape could see her now, she most certainly, would be catching flies.

"Enough goggling," A deep voice boomed. 

Bristol's attention quickly snapped to the head of her House, Snape directing the group down the street. Murmurs and shrieks of excitement could be heard as the toured their way until they reached a pillar-white building. 

"Gringotts Wizarding Bank," Snape said as he took a step up, observing the faces below him. "This is where you will be able to transfer your American money to Euros to Galleons, Knots, and Sickles. Any questions, ask the Goblins that are employed, not me."

Snape observed the crowd, looking unimpressed at their amused faces. To him, this world was his normality. Bristol raised an eyebrow up at him, wondering if he such a stick in the mud all the time. Snape caught her eye but swooshed his black cloak, telling his students to follow him inside.


	3. Diagon Alley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not affiliated with the Harry Potter series and I would like to credit the Harry Potter Wiki (https://harrypotter.fandom.com/wiki/Shopping_List) for the shopping list.

Elegance and order fell before Bristol's eyes. At first, it was the two tear-drop shaped chandeliers that shined and dropped from the ceiling like shooting stars. The crystals that hugged the light source radiated an iridescent rainbow on the exceptionally clean marble floor. The sounds of clicking, papers being flipped, and coins jingling filled the sickly silence of Gringott's. Bristol looked upon the fascinating creatures that were perched in high podiums, looking down at those who entered. Tuning in to the amazed whispers of her classmates, Bristol learned that the employees were goblins, exceptionally clever and witty. Bristol watched as Snape strode down to what seemed the Head Goblin, his dark clothes standing out against the chic and clean look of the bank.

Students quickly followed behind him, eager to see how the goblins worked their charm. Bristol was equally as curious, but her excitement fell in the shopping itinerary. Her mind traveled to the existence of her wand, the power of magic residing in what she could imagine looking like a feeble stick. She spotted a few wands of other students at Hogwarts the night before, simple wooden wands that didn't look like the embodiment of all things magical. Bristol's attention was quickly snapped back to the present as a goblin took her to the side. From there, he gathered her full name, date of birth, height, eye color, sex, and her parent's name. Bristol informed the goblin that she had American money back at the castle, not knowing she had to bring it over for it to be transferred, but it seemed like that wasn't an issue. Each student, according to the goblin, was required to have a down-payment of a thousand pounds in their vault to secure their place. The goblin described to Bristol that her parents sent over a loan after the Headmistress herself took the time to personally write to each parent about the situation their children had to face according to money. Bristol was shocked that her parents sent money at all, considering she wasted her bank account by taking all she had to make the move to England.

Nonetheless, Bristol knew she was going to have to face the inevitable and write to her parents, thank them for the loan, ask how she could possibly repay them back and inform them of her well-being. Bristol bitterly wished that her parents supported her abnormalities rather than keep them tucked away. She began to wonder how it was even possible to deny a young witch or wizard the right to their magical abilities. Shouldn't some type of wizard cop or social service worker pay the family a visit to see why their child wasn't attending a wizarding school? Was magic a way of life or just a privilege? Endless thoughts racked Bristol's brain and she wished she could have someone to turn to. If the head of her house wasn't so painfully sarcastic all the time, she'd unload her obnoxious questions onto him. It seemed that these thoughts had to wait a while until she could build trust with her mentors and see which professors she truly liked and trusted before acquiring them.

After an hour-long session at the bank, students left with enough money to gather their supplies. Snape looked bored and grumpy, hating that he was forced to wait around for such nonsense. Bristol learned that she could come back to the bank and take the American money she brought with her and make the conversion. She planned on heading back to Diagon Alley tomorrow, not wanting her spot to be given up. Snape instructed the students to follow his lead as he passed up shops, not bothering to explain what they were. He merely pointed to the signs, assuming the students would figure it out themselves. He finally made an abrupt halt, to which a younger kid almost knocked into him for, and slowly turned to look at his students. 

"Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions," He spoke, his head tilting slightly to the faded purple shop. Peeking inside the large window, cloaks of gorgeous gem-like colors displayed themselves to catch shopper's eyes. 

Bristol followed behind Snape as he turned back around, heading straight towards the shops he just left. It seemed as if some of the owners were shocked to see him return, the look of distaste displaying on their face.

"You will be receiving your robes here. Considering the lot of you range majority in age, it is no doubt that tailoring and adjustments should be made. Since this, you are quite a handful and I can not be forced to stand outside, painstakingly waiting until each little stitch is sewn in properly, I will be diving the group. Ages seventeen and up will be tailored. I will take the rest of the students to gather their books and wands."

Bristol was the first to step forward, five other people following behind. Snape raised an eyebrow up at Bristol before reaching deep into his cloak, pulling out yellow parchment paper. "Your school list, Miss Clemens," He drew out, handing her the envelope.

Bristol stepped aside as the other students received the same letter. She read it over, entranced at the subjects she was going to learn. Her eyes quickly shot up at Snape, ready to bombard him with a billion questions about each subject, but bit back her tongue when she noticed he was already looking her way. Her face went hot, realizing she must've looked like a fool for gleaming down at a piece of paper. 

_**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry** _

**Uniform**

Three Sets of Plain work robes (Black).

One Plain Pointed Hat (Black) for day wear.

One Pair of Protective Gloves (dragon hide or similar).

One Winter Cloak (Black, silver fastenings).

Please note that all student's clothes should carry name-tags at all times.

**Books**

_The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1_ by Miranda Goshawk

 _A History of Magic_ by Bathilda Bagshot

 _Magical Theory_ by Adalbert Waffling

 _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ by Emeric Switch

 _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ by Phyllida Spore

 _Magical Drafts and Potions_ by Arsenius Jigger

 _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ by Newt Scamander

 _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ by Quentin Trimble

**Other Equipment**

1 Wand

1 Cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set of glass or crystal vials

1 telescope

1 set of brass scales

Students may also bring an Owl OR a Cat OR a Toad.

Walking into the robes shop, Bristol's eyes widened as she saw fabrics fly by. Like tropical birds of paradise, brightly colored silks and kinds of cotton brushed against Bristol's cheek, entrancing her. A plump woman let out a joyous shriek as she spotted the group, seemingly aware that they were there to be fitted for school uniforms. One by one, starting off with the youngest, people were being tugged behind a curtain to be fitted for their uniform. Bristol found herself the last to go, the plump woman who goes by Madam Tweedle, out of breath as a floating measuring tape accompanied her side. She gave a toothy grin to Bristol, informing her to step onto the wooden stool. Bristol heaved herself up, looking at herself in the mirror. She slightly frowned at her appearance but was bombarded by compliments from Madam Tweedle. 

"Now, darling, if you don't mind, I'm going to measure you. Arms up, high up in the air, please" Madam Tweedle instructed.

Bristol followed the woman's orders, arms waving high in the air as the yellow measuring tape began to hug her sides. As the measuring tape danced around Bristol's body, Madam Tweedle was recording down measurements. Suddenly, a rack came rolling out behind the curtain, a display of white button-ups, skirts, pants, and robes was presented to Bristol. Madam Tweedle handed Bristol her uniform, claiming that it should fit snug as a bug. 

"Now, just try those on and call me back in to see if we need to make a few adjustments."

With that said, Madam Tweedle fled behind the curtain to allow Bristol the privacy she needed to try her uniform on. Within a few quick movements, Bristol was adjusting her skirt and calling Madam Tweedle back in. A slight gasp was heard from Madam Tweedle's mouth, clasping her hands together in awe.

"A Hogwarts student! An exceptional one you'd be, darling! The uniform fits you perfectly! Now, just pair that with some stockings or leggings and you'd be off to go!"

Bristol took a look at herself in the mirror, raising an eyebrow. The long black cloak barely havered above the floor. Her pearly white button-up hugged her curves exceptionally well and her skirt fell right above her knee. Bristol snickered at herself, the idea of rolling it up a couple more inches to look more promiscuous flooding into her mind. Bristol could never see herself wearing stockings without ripping them. She knew she was either going to have to go bare or wear knee socks, to which, she didn't mind either-or.

Bristol turned back to Madam Tweedle, endlessly thanking her for the fitting. She watched as the woman blushed, hushing her and saying it was her job, but it seemed that she enjoyed the compliments nonetheless. As Bristol changed back into her regular clothes, her uniform was taken behind the counter and she paid a good price for her uniform. With bag in hand, Bristol exited the shop with the rest of her classmates, a dark-cloaked man steaming his way straight towards them.

"Just on time, like I expected. At least now I know my House isn't filled with infuriatingly lazy children . . . I hope," Snape snarled, beady eyes preying upon his students.

"Those who got fitted for their robes, you will be joining me in checking off the rest of your list, you see, it is a personal goal to be back before the sun sets and I have my heart set on eating dinner on time," He huffed, his voice increasing at every syllable 

"Flourish and Blotts," Snape spoke suddenly, stopping dead in his tracks. "This is where you will be acquiring your text-books. Make it quick," He snapped, watching as his students scurried on inside. Bristol was one of the last to enter, quickly glancing at her Professor before stepping inside. She followed the train of students as they picked up their books, almost flooding the small store. The owner of the shop seemed overwhelmed by the influx of people, their face glowing red as the first student began to check-out their purchase.

The book shop didn't take long to do, Snape relieved as students quickly piled out the same way they got in.

"You will soon learn to find that at Hogwarts, we maintain strict order and policy. No dilly-dallying or foolish nonsense will be tolerated at the castle," He slowly drew as he walked his way to the next shop. 

Bristol wondered why he was always in such a bad mood. She began to rack through her brain a series of assumptions, judging that he had some past trauma that forced him to be the way he is now. She sighed as her mind wandered back to her parents, wondering how they were feeling.

"Potage's Cauldron Shop," Snape said, interrupting Bristol's train of thought. "Need I explain what you get here?" He scoffed.

Once again, like clockwork, students forced themselves into a line and picked up the materials they needed. Snape took his students to other shops to gather the rest of their supplies, and a few students bought themselves a pet. Bristol was debating on whether getting herself one, standing outside the shop with folded arms, and a hard look on her face.

"No pet?" A deep voice asked, making her jump.

Bristol placed a hand over her heart, lightly laughing. "Oh, no, no. Um, I actually have no idea. See, the idea of an owl seems interesting enough, especially, from what you said, that you can personally use it to deliver mail. A toad seems so . . . boring, and a cat-"

She glanced over at her Professor as she spoke, a bored look displayed on his face. Bristol stopped talking, embarrassed she rambled on.

"Continue, Miss Clemens, I'm quite interested to hear your thought process behind this all."

Bristol felt her cheeks rise, biting the inside of her mouth to stop smiling. "Well, a cat seems nice. But I don't know if I'm ready for the responsibility. I have no idea how classes are going to go."

A long sigh drew from Snape's breath, looking down at Bristol. "You are quite right, indeed. Judging by your keen hearing and the clear train of thought, I have high expectations of you to perform brilliantly in my class."

Bristol felt her face drop, panic filling her. A high expectation? He barely knows her! Bristol began to bite her lip, sulking a little.

Before she hand the chance to say anything, Professor Snape turned his back on her and began to lead students to their final destination, Ollivander's. 


	4. Ollivander's

Bristol was the first one to enter Ollivander's shop. It was a tight-knot, closed capacity store that houses thousands of long rectangular boxes, cluttering the shelves against the walls. Bristol assumed the boxes were wands, her excitement growing stronger as she stared at the unoccupied front desk. Scattered parchment paper and knocked over the ink messed up the already rotting wood of the counter, making Bristol curious to see who it would be that makes the wands. Finally, a deep voice rang out, making Bristol jump in the air once more. A man with fried gray hair that stuck up at all angles slowly approached Bristol, creeping out of the shadows. His smile curled deep into his wrinkly cheeks, crooked yellow teeth smiling straight at her. His button-up shirt was stained with ink, Bristol noticed. 

"Severus did say that more Americans would be entering my shop," the strange man said, stretching out his back, loud popping sounds echoing in the quiet shop. Bristol wished she wasn't alone, Professor Snape making it a rule that students must go in one at a time. She bit the inside of her cheek, anxiety beginning to trickle into her mind as the quiet shop creaked in the darkest of corners.

Bristol physically braced herself, crossing her arms across her chest. Growing up in New York, she had no choice but to be in a constant state of awareness. The bustling city, although beautiful and magical in its own ways, harvested deep-rooted evil dwellers; shadows lurking behind corners, peeking at their prey with glowing eyes, ready to pounce at any given second. Bristol rubbed the sides of her fingers together, used to her house keys being interlocked. 

"I can sense your tense, excited to receive your wand once and for all, hm?" The shop keeper hummed, raising his eyebrows in excitement. "My name is Garrick Ollivander."

Ollivander turned his back on Bristol after examining her features for a few seconds, wobbling back into the dark shadows cast by occupied shelves. Bristol felt her shoulders drop a little, embarrassed that she assumed the worst. Maybe it was her survival-of-the-fittest way of living that was installed into her at a young age, but if the rumors were true that Hogwarts was the safest place on Earth, then she'd need to start letting her walls down.

After a few more seconds of wand boxes being scattered around, Ollivander peered his way back. In his hands, he held a long navy-blue box with gold detailing on the sides. He slowly placed the box down onto the counter, avoiding the puddle of ink. He lifted the lid and inside was a gorgeously crafted wand. Bristol felt her heart skip, excitement completely washing over her fears.

She couldn't believe it, that little piece of wood was her access to magic. This whole time, she had the ability within her, but she wasn't fully allowed to access it without the key; her wand. Bristol bit the bottom of her lip, eyes glancing up towards Ollivander. She wasn't sure what to do. She heard that the "wand chooses you" but she was expecting some sort of magical show.

"Do you expect the wand to just stand up and sing to you?" Ollivander chuckled. Bristol let out a small scoff, finding herself silly that she assumed it would.

Slowly, she extended a hand, her palm hovering above the wand. She focused her eyes on the wand itself, trying her hardest to concentrate. She began to visually imagine the wand lifting itself out of the box and floating into her palm. But when the stick of wood remained perfectly still in its place, she let out a frustrated huff.

"Take it out of the box," Ollivander chuckled once more, dabbing his forehead of sweat. He seemed equally nervous yet excited like Bristol as well.

"Oh!" She laughed, picking the wand up with ease.

She noticed it was fairly light and small in length. She stared at the wand in her grasp, not feeling anything special about it. She noticed a great deal of detailing at the bottom of the wand, circles, and curves creating a flowy featurette. Although elegant, Bristol didn't feel the connection like she hoped.

"Go on, give it a wave!" Ollivander said, swishing his arm around, expecting Bristol to perform a bit of magic.

Bristol blinked a couple of times, not expecting him to say that. She knows no spells, how can she perform with this wand with extremely limited knowledge of magic? However, Bristol lightly waved the wand, and Ollivander's front window exploded into millions of pieces. Screams could be heard outside of the fellow students who were anxiously waiting for their turn. Heads popped their way inside, looking at Bristol like she was a madwoman.

Bristol let out a large gasp, covering her mouth immediately. Her eyes went wide at the destruction she caused, unsure if she should feel excited or panicked. One, excited that she was able to cause such an event to occur because of her magical abilities, and two, she broke his window. 

Bristol felt herself blush with embarrassment but the students who were looking inside seemed to be impressed as well. From afar, Bristol could hear Professor Snape drawing the students away from the wreck, taking a quick look inside to make everything was alright. He caught Bristol's eyes, a small smirk tugging at her lips. She sucked in a breath, intimidation quickly masking her guilt. Once her Professor turned away, Bristol looked over at the shop owner.

"Sir, I am so, so, so, sorry!" Bristol took a step towards Ollivander who only snatched the wand out of her hand.

"It is truly no problem, Miss. You aren't the first and most certainly won't be the last to create chaos like that. If it isn't evident enough, that wand is not meant for you."

Bristol let out a sigh of relief, nodding along as Ollivander spoke. Once again, he curled back into the dusty, dark shelves, spending a couple more minutes this time. Bristol took the advantage of stepping forward to look at the wreck she caused, raising up an impressed eyebrow. A whole entire window shattered because of her. The once-glass pane was now a version of crystallized dust, shimmering on the ground below her. 

"Having an issue, Miss Clemens?" A deep, slow voice called out to her.

Bristol jumped high, knowing exactly who was speaking to her. She swallowed hard, wondering what it was about her Professor that made her so shaky.

"Ollivander said that the wand ins;t meant for me," She informed him, shrugging a shoulder.

"Obviously," Professor Snape longly drew out, his eyes slowly raking Bristol's body.

Under his gaze, she felt exposed. She felt like Snape knew exactly every little secret and detail about her. She wondered if he had a magical ability that allowed him to read people's auras or minds. If he was able to tap into her mind, however, he would find things that would most likely already have her expelled. She couldn't help it, she somewhat found her Professor sexy.

"Miss!" A raspy voice called out. Ollivander came back towards the counter and Bristol gave her Professor a soft smile, turning away. 

On top of the counter was a deep forest green rectangular box that was much longer than the previous one. It didn't have any fancy detailing, it was strictly just the deep-set color as well as Ollivander's logo pressed onto the top. Bristol lifted the lid and delicately took out the wand, electricity running through her fingertips. Her eyes slightly widened as she stared down at the wand. It was a dark brown to almost black. The part where she gripped the wand had very few details, only circular rims. 

"Interesting, quite interesting. The wood type is Yew with a Pheonix core and is 11 inches long. A mighty fine wand indeed. Most particular . . ." Ollivander scratched his chin as he glanced between Bristol and the wand.

"It is quite rare for an owner to possesses a Pheonix core. You might be particularly skilled in the Dark Arts if I do say so myself," Ollivander hummed.

"Dark Arts?" bristol repeated, furrowing her eyebrows.

"Oh yes, come, come," Ollivander said, motioning her towards the counter. "Defense Against the Dark Arts, a subject taught at Hogwarts."

"Oh, right," Bristol said, remembering one of her textbooks covered the subject.

"Seven galleons, please," Ollivander smiled. 

Bristol smiled back and rummaged through her bag and pulled exactly seven galleons, wondering what the American equivalent was. The goblin at Gringott's explained to her the translation but she was far too excited to tune in. Maybe she could ask her Professor but she was afraid he'd give her a stern lecture on not paying attention. 

Ollivander put Bristol's wand back inside its box and wrapped it in a cool brown parchment type of paper, tying a bow of thin rope to hold it all together. 

"Have a good day and year at Hogwarts, Miss."

Bristol nodded, thanking the man and telling him to have a good day as well. She took her wand box in hand and left the store, her fellow peers buzzing with questions as she walked out.

"Silence!" Professor Snape hissed as he tamed control of the rowdy crowd.

"Since everyone seems so persistent and nosey to find out exactly what went on in there, Miss, do share your experience."

Bristol began to explain what exactly went down and why it did. As she explained her story, the more students seemed excited to have the same experience as well. She forgot to leave out the detail about her wand type, still having questions about it herself. As she stepped aside to let the next student go in, she noticed the shop window was perfectly in place, as if it was never broken before.

 _I love magic_ , Bristol thought as she smiled to herself, hugging her wand box tight.


	5. First Day of Classes

A loud thud woke Bristol up with a startling jolt. She sat straight up in her bed, looking wildly around the room she woke up in, finding it unfamiliar at first. Dark wood with dark green furniture stained her eyes, squinting towards a large stained glass window that wasn't showing a bright, blue sky. _Oh right_ , Bristol thought with a small smile. _I'm at Hogwarts_.

The foamy sea green that replaced the morning sky excited Bristol. She couldn't believe that the Slytherin dormitories nestled underneath the water. For a quick second, she swore she could see a large tentacle swim by. Kicking her legs over the side of her bed and hoisting herself up, she was greeted by another loud noise.

"Good morning, pumpkin!" Mable chirped, her long auburn hair braided over her shoulder. She was glowing, perfect skin, and rosy red cheeks the beaming towards Bristol. Her uniform was already hugging her body, ready to conquer the day. 

"You look great," Bristol complimented, walking over to her dresser. She took out her uniform and laced it on her unmade bed, planning on getting dressed first.

Mable thanked her friend, handing her a sheet of parchment paper. "Our schedules."

Bristol stopped what she was doing, her coal-black cloak half-way hanging out of the drawers. She quickly turned to Mable, taking the sheet of paper from her hands excitingly. 

_Transfiguration: Minerva McGonagall teaches this from 8:00 to 9:00 am_

_Charms: Bartie Bottoms teaches this from 9:10 to 10:10 am_

_Divination: Sybill Trewlaney teaches this from 11:15 to 12:15 pm_

_Lunch: 12:20 to 1:30 pm_

_Free Period: 1:35 to 2:35 pm_

_Defense Against the Dark Arts: Khali Lamoria teaches this from 2:40 to 3:40 pm_

_Potions: Severus Snape teaches this from 3:45 to 4:45 pm_

_Dinner: 5:00 to 7:00 pm_

"Wait, are we late?" Bristol asked, fear washing into her eyes.

Mable shook her head no, slightly chuckling. "I would've woken you up by now! We still have half an hour left. You should get dressed and hurry so we aren't late for breakfast! I'm excited about Charms, I heard that's where we learn all our spells."

Bristol nodded, asking Mable to turn away as she dressed. Quickly tugging her uniform onto her body, she took a final look at herself in the full-length mirror her dorm possessed. Her hands flattened her skirt, her tie loose around her neck. She still felt like she was dreaming. She feared the moment her mind would snap out of this lucid dream. Bristol glanced at Mable, asking if she could do her tie. Mable's hands trickled around bristol's neck, slightly tugging the cloth, and began to tie it. After creating the perfect knot, Mable squeezed Bristol's forearms, letting her know that they were going to take the day with a strong mind and heart.

Bristol slung a black leather backpack around her shoulder. Inside carried pens, notebooks, and the required textbooks. Her heart flipped as Mable led the two out of their dormitories. Students were lazily lounging in the common room, looking exhausted. A few seemed anxious, their knee bouncing in place. A few other kids were grabbing breakfast, the same as Mable and Bristol.

Bristol glanced at the aesthetic of the common room, plush dark green accents soothing her eyes before she was met with lit torches in the Hogwarts hallways. She bit her lip as young kids slithered past her, rushing to their current destination. She felt insanely old compared to the students who were correctly attending at their given age. Nothing seemed to humiliate her more than the thought of an eleven-year-old knowing more spells than she did.

Bristol aimlessly followed Mable, impressed with each corner they turned. "How do you know where to go?" Bristol asked, watching the trees lightly dance as they passed the open windows. 

"I remembered the route Snape took when he showed us to his office the other day . . . also I asked the Head Boy, Donovan Smith, a fifth-year in our house where I needed to go."

Bristol let out a huffed chuckle, the two soon entering the Great Hall. A display of breakfast food feasted their eyes and they seated themselves by their well-known acquaintances. Michael waved to them, scooting over and opening a free spot. Mable squeezed his shoulder as a hello while Bristol was too invested in absorbing the scene around her. It was interesting watching students who've attended for a while not care about their atmosphere. Bristol was amazed as owls swooped down, dropped parcels and envelopes, leaving traces of their feathers as they flew by. 

"Don't worry, there's coffee, in that copper kettle right there," Michael pointed out, Bristol thanking him and reaching over to her desired liquid. She graciously poured herself a cup, doing the same to Mable's chalice as well.

"I heard they made the coffee, especially for us Americans. Apparently, they think we're big caffeine drinkers," Michael said, spooning cereal into his mouth.

Bristol cocked an eyebrow, not disagreeing with the rumor. She was glad that she wasn't going to suffer from a lack of caffeine headaches. She reached over to a circular silver bowl that held the sugar, spooning in three scoops and swirling it around in her black coffee, declining the milk.'

"I like it bitter," Bristol smiled as Mable lightened her coffee.

Bristol enjoyed listening to the conversation Mable and Michael had rather than participating in it. She enjoyed a tranquil morning that didn't require extra effort. She hummed our laughed whenever someone said anything remotely funny but kept her comments to herself, trying to relax and meditate before heading straight on to her first class of the day. Bristol delved into scrambled eggs and toast for her first meal, surprised by the wonderful taste. She wasn't expecting anything exquisite or extraordinary, but even the food at Hogwarts tasted magical beyond description.

Mable turned to Bristol as she heaved herself off the bench, stretching out her back. "Ready to get going guys?"

Michael nodded, following Mable's lead to which Bristol complied. The three received painfully awkward and obvious stares as they prepared to leave. They all stook out like a sore thumb for being one of the oldest students to attend the school. Bristol wished she could run out of the Great Hall without causing even more attention but she forced herself to be stabbed by the looks.

"Transfiguration, huh," Michael spoke up after a moment of silence.

"They looked at us like we had six heads or something," Bristol interrupted, looking at her two new friends with wide eyes.

Mable looked down, her eyes sweeping the floor. She slowly nodded as Michael rolled his eyes in reply. "I thought they were just looking at me funny," He admitted, scoffing.

"Just because we're a little late to the game doesn't mean we're allowed to be laughed at," Bristol instigated.

"Give them the benefit of the doubt," Mable said rather sharply, her eyes sticking like glue to the ground.

Michael looked at Bristol, his lips falling into a thin line, confused and curious as to what Mable meant. Bristol sensed the situation bothered her, Mable's energy completely deteriorating as the conversation progressed.

"They're probably just as uncomfortable as we are, all right? It's not our fault we didn't get to know our whole life had a bigger purpose than what we expected. And it's not their fault they didn't realize people in a situation like us even existed in the first place."

Bristol backed down, ultimately agreeing with what Mable had to say. However, what sparked Bristol's curiosity was the quickness to defend such a group that hasn't been as welcoming as one would suppose. Either way, Bristol found herself thinking about Transfiguration again and eventually ended up in the classroom. Snagging a seat in the back, the three remained ultimately close. Bristol looked ahead of her, an empty desk with no Professor insight. She sighed, wishing she knew her first Professor was going to be late so she had the opportunity to get to class a little bit slower. 

"Whose cat is that?" Mable asked, a brown-furred feline walking prominently into the classroom with a confident strut. Bristol awed at the cuteness, wanting to scoop it up and cuddle it.

"Not sure, but it's so cute" Michael pointed out to which Bristol agreed.

All of a sudden, the furry feline transformed into an older woman, emerald green robes flowing gracefully to the floor. Skin that wrinkled from the cruel fate of time and age made a permanent frown on her mouth, looking disapproving towards Michael.

"Mister Miles, I highly doubt that it's appropriate to call your Headmistress 'cute' in any sense," The woman sassed, crossing her hands on top of one another. 

Michael's face twisted from adoration to fear as Professor McGonagall told him off, his mouth dropping at the sight of magic.

"Ma'am, I am so sorry, I clearly didn't know you were the cat-can you teach me how to do that?" He asked, amazed by the abilities the woman possessed.

"It's Headmistress or Professor McGonagall to you," she said, sucking her teeth. She walked to the front of the class, standing in front of her desk and slowly grazing her eyes at the students whom she was going to teach.

"As Mister Miles has so generously pointed out," She said, eyeing the boy. "I'm sure absolutely none of you knew that it was me who entered the class. During this course, I will teach you to transform spoons into feathers and back, rats into chalices, and the detailed history of Transfiguration."

Bristol's notebook was already in front of her, eager to take down notes. She watched in amazement as a piece of floating chalk began to scribble itself on the blackboard, writing down bullet points of what Professor McGonagall was saying. 

"Transfiguration isn't as easy as I made it seem. It's complex, scientific-based magic that considers molecules inside the object one is trying to transfigure into as well as the molecules one already possesses. There are four types of Transfiguration: transformation, vanishment, conjuration, and transfiguration . . .

Before Bristol knew it, she found herself packing up her back and chattering away with Mable and Michael about their first class. They gossiped about the lecture and how informative yet difficult the subject is doing to be. Excitement filled their bodies as they were going to learn to transform a spoon into a fork for the next class. Mable was desperate to get some wand-work in, almost skipping her way to Charms. Michael still couldn't quite grasp the scientific concept behind the magic, still believing it was an area of art on its own that didn't need an outside source of explanation. 

However, the idea of fact over fiction left his mind as the three entered their next class, a simple feather presented to each student on their desk. 


End file.
